Upon this legend Saint-Saëns has constructed a symphonic piece of great descriptive power. The music may indeed be said to tell its own story. A prelude of a few bars describes Phaeton gathering up his reins. He starts, and, presumably, after a preliminary canter, induces the horses to proceed quietly. Suddenly, however, they break away. Vainly does he use all his endeavours to stop them in their frantic course. The catastrophe is nearing, when a formidable crash puts an end to Phaeton and his misplaced ambition. The instrumentation of "Phaëton" is in itself worth a detailed notice, and is a perfect marvel of ingenuity. "La Jeunesse d'Hercule" is the most elaborate of the four symphonic poems, and is, perhaps, the least well-known. It attempts to describe the legend of Hercules, who at the outset of life saw two roads open to him, that of pleasure and that of duty. The hero does not allow himself to be swayed by the seductions of nymphs or bacchantæ, but resolutely follows the path of struggles and of combats, at the end of which he is to receive the recompense of immortality. In treating this subject Saint-Saëns has given full rein to his imagination, and has shown a complete independence of spirit in the matter of construction. The score of this poetical and original composition will fully repay any amount of study that may be devoted to it. It is, of course, impossible to attempt an analysis of this interesting work in these pages. I would, however, draw the attention of musicians to the wonderfully ingenious manner in which the climax is reached, producing an accumulative effect of concentrated force bursting through its bonds, evidently descriptive of the final triumph of Hercules. A symbolic meaning is attached to all these symphonic poems, with the possible exception of the "Danse Macabre," and although they are each professedly intended to describe an actual story, this is only used as a means of suggesting the abstract idea that underlies it. Saint-Saëns has published four pianoforte concertos, the second and fourth of which are the best known. Some years since he told me that he contemplated writing a fifth, but for some reason best known to himself he did not put his project into execution. The second and fourth concertos are two of the most striking examples of the kind that have proceeded from the pen of a modern composer. Why the third should be so persistently neglected is more than I profess to understand, except for the reason that pianists are like the traditional _moutons de Panurge_, and are, as a race singularly destitute of initiative, preferring to follow on the beaten track sooner than give themselves more trouble than necessary.